Imogen let a moan go ahead and escape this time, then hitched in a breath when he gently bit her before abandoning her again. His hand cupped her breast, and he rubbed his thumb across her swollen and damp nipple, while his mouth migrated to the other tip, his tongue laving it in rhythm with his thumb, until Imogen was fighting for breath, her head lolling back.
She tried to pull her hands out to grip his hair for balance, but he sensed the movement and said, “Leave them.” Since it also resulted in his thumb descending to hold her hands in place in her pockets, Imogen went still. He went back to licking her nipple, still cupping the weight of her, but now his free hand gripped her backside, his fingers shifting down along the seam of her jeans, down, then up, down, then up, so that the friction heated her, and the tease of where he almost reached, then always retreated, had slick moisture easing down into her panties.
“Ty,” she said, not sure what she was asking for, her thoughts jumbled and erratic.
“What? You want your shirt all the way off, don’t you?” He stood up and leaned against her, his firm chest brushing against her swollen ni**les. “Here, pull them out for two seconds.” He shifted her hands up out of her pockets, then before she could blink, he had her shirt yanked down her arms and onto the floor. The bra followed and she was totally naked from the waist up.
She was about to wrap her arms around him and scrape her nails across his broad back, but he forced her hands back in the jeans pockets.
“No,” she protested.
“Yes.” Ty stepped back. “Let me look at you.”
Imogen felt a pang of self-consciousness, her shoulders slumping slightly forward.
But then Ty said, “Oh, baby, look at how gorgeous you are.” His jaw was clenched, his erection clearly visible in his jeans. “Such creamy, soft skin.” His finger floated up her arm, barely skimming the flesh. “Silky hair . . . so dark, so sexy.”
He flicked the end of her hair, causing it to slide across her shoulder and chest, and Imogen forgot to be self-conscious. She licked her lips, aware that she was breathing hard, her fingers digging into her own flesh to give her something to hold on to.
Ty gave a soft moan. “Do that again.”
“What?”
“Lick your lips. I bet you can do amazing things with that tongue, knowing what it does in my mouth.”
Imogen straightened and did it again, dragging her tongue slowly across her bottom lip, enjoying the way his eyes darkened, the way he stared at her mouth in dark fascination.
“Do you leave your glasses on or take them off when you’re having sex?” he asked, his voice low and rough.
They weren’t sliding down her nose at the moment, so Imogen wasn’t bothered by them. She shrugged. “I don’t know. It depends. Why?”
“Because things are about to get down and dirty, and I don’t want to knock them off your face by accident.”
Down and dirty. She liked the sound of that, though she couldn’t picture anything they would do that would send her glasses sailing off her face. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Can you see without them?” Ty played with the stems, lifting the frames up and down on her nose.
“I certainly can’t see when you do that.”
He grinned and let them go. “Sorry.”
“Things are a little blurry without them but I can manage. But I need my hands to take them off.”
Ty leaned forward and kissed her long and tenderly, his mouth open as it took hers over and over. “Okay. I can take the glasses off for you, but I’ll let you have your hands back. For now.”
He reached behind her and extracted her hands from her jeans and pulled them to her thighs and slowly let her go. Imogen took off her glasses and closed the stems neatly. Ty took them from her and leaned back and set the glasses on his dresser. Then he stepped in front of her again, close, invading her space and making her so damn glad she was half-naked. She could feel the heat radiating off him, and she loved the way he was bigger than her, the way he could surround her. Without her glasses, he was a little fuzzy, but he was close enough that it was mild, and because of the soft candlelight of the room, she couldn’t see every detail of his face anyway. But she could delineate his basic form, his shoulders, his muscular chest, the small shock of hair that rose above his waistband, the shadow of his pelvis where his jeans hung low. She could see his expression clearly enough to read that it was mischievous, bold, confident.
Funny now that her hands were loose, she didn’t know what to do with them, and she knew that she was waiting for him to direct their seduction. She wanted that, craved that, was completely and totally aroused by the fact that she didn’t have to be in charge, that there was no fragile ego here to bolster.
Ty wanted to take and she wanted to be taken.
“After all your fussing and complaining, your hands are free,” Ty said, teasing her as he brushed his lips over the corner of her mouth, shifting so that his chest moved against hers. “So why did you want them out so bad? What do you want to touch?”
Ty could practically see the wheels turning in Imogen’s head. She wouldn’t answer impulsively and she wouldn’t avoid his question with a vague answer. Imogen would tell him precisely what she wanted, he had no doubt.
She said, “I don’t know. I want to touch everything and I’m debating where to start.”
He would pretty much give his bank account to have her go down on her knees and take his c**k into her mouth, but he wanted her to take that kind of action on her own, not because he asked. “Well, while you’re deciding, I’m going to touch you again. I want to suck your sweet ni**les again.”
Imogen made a delightful little sound of anticipation, her eyes wide, no lenses to obscure their deep, endless blue color from him. Ty kissed her, loving the softness of her lips, the honeyed tang of her tongue and mouth, his hands on her waist. She was thin and toned, but still soft, with small, perky br**sts that fit nicely into his palms. He could spend all night running his lips over her neck, across her shoulders, down into the cleft between her br**sts. Ty nuzzled her flesh, tasting the pureness of her skin, appreciating that she didn’t wear heavy lotion or perfume. Imogen just tasted like sweet woman, and she had the most amazing ni**les.
Playing with one with his tongue, he rolled it around before sucking gently, his eyes half-closed. He was rewarded by a soft sigh and Imogen reaching a decision on where to put her hands. They started on his back, stroking softly, lithe and small and gentle, then as he got more aggressive, sucking her harder, her touch migrated down to his ass and she squeezed. It was a simple touch, but one that made Ty’s erection throb.